


The Robin Effect

by beachbummer



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, kind of, not rlly tho bc this is a weird au made even weirder with my writing style, this is purely self indulgent bc idk how to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 09:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19148227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachbummer/pseuds/beachbummer
Summary: Dick Grayson died on June 27 but his spirit remained lively. The fortune teller foretold it so. Predicted what must always remain true. Dick Grayson will always find a way to live on. To prevail.[AU were Dick never truly meets his end]





	The Robin Effect

“Hiya Mister!”

Richard John Grayson. Age 10.  
Black Hair. Dark Brown Eyes.  
Height: 4’11”. Weight: 90 lbs  
Mother- Mary Holly Grayson nee Lloyd.  
Father- Giovanni Bendigo Grayson.  
Date of Birth- March 21, 1973

“Hope you don’t mind but sir, I’m a bit lost, and I’ve been looking for what seems like years but see, I just don’t know where I am,”

Date of Death- June 27, 1983  
Notes on Event: Died on Impact, Freak Accident, Suspected Foul Play

“Oh mama would be so disappointed, what with me just ‘chirping away to anyone that stopped’, That’s what she always said, which isn’t necessarily true but you try arguing with a lady thats got a heavy wooden spoon perfect for a spank, I tell you, oh and there I go again! The names Dick Grayson, forgot to say! What’s yours mister?”

Notations on Skills: Acrobat, Multilingual, Advanced in Most School Subjects

“It’s... Bruce Wayne”

Characteristics: A Lively Boy, Temper, Does Not Do Well With Most Authority, Rambles When Nervous or Excited

“Holy philanthropist billionaire, mister! You’re the Bruce Wayne?”

Further Notations: Should Be Very Much Not Alive And Should Not Be Currently Giving Aforementioned Bruce Wayne A Heart Attack

———

“What the fuck,” 

“That’s a whole ass child and your explanation for how he came here is just a halfhearted shrug?”

“No but actually what the fuck”

“This is worse than when Damian came along and all you did was ‘hmph’”

“I’m very invested in what the explanation for this is, because honestly Bruce, what the fuck!”

Dick Grayson was part of a circus troupe, who faced a tragic end and very much haunted Bruce’s dreams for years to come. The hard snap of bone and the silent screams reminded him too much of a shot in the dark and pearls falling. 

“He materialized in the cave. Not much more can be said. I’ll have to investigate further”

The boy was buried alongside his parents. No one but the circus itself and Bruce Wayne attended the funeral. He was the only one wearing black. 

“Who is he though? Just some random kid?”

It was a sunny day, and the clowns laid down bunches of red, pink, and white carnations. Pride and Admiration. Love of a Mother. Innocence and Pure Love. 

“He’s Richard Grayson. The boy from the news, years ago.”

The fortune teller laid daffodils. Rebirth, New Beginnings, Eternal Life. Misfortune.

“Didn’t he, you know, fall? How is that supposed to be Grayson?” 

The fortune teller did not cry.

“Believe me I would love to have a perfectly logical explanation for why Richard appeared in the cave without tripping any alarms, while also being very much dead. But I don’t and at this point something strange was bound to happen. Things have been going okay for too long in this family.”

When the daffodils were laid down, a breeze allowed goosebumps to grow alongside Bruce’s arm.

“I’m dead?!”

———

“Holy shit, the kid doesn’t even know he’s dead?” 

“Master Jason, I would advise you mind your words and tact”

“Alfie, I love you but I gotta let out some steam and saying ‘heck’ just ain’t gonna cut it in this shitshow,”

“Dude shut the fuck up, I think you’re scaring the kid,”

“No offense here to you and the kid, but he’s kinda scaring me”

“Jason, on God, shut up!”

“Stephanie, on God, no! This is insane, a dead kid just appeared! Out of nowhere! And he doesn’t even know he’s dead”

Bruce loved his kids, he really did. But right now, he’s questioning if it’s really all worth it. 

“Would you all stop yelling! It’s not helping anything and I don’t know why you all think I’m dead when I’m clearly not! Now I don’t know where I am and I need help and would anyone please just help me find my parents?”

Temper. Daffodils. Three Buried Bodies.

Bruce still doesn’t know what happened exactly. 

But a little boy with black hair and brown eyes and olive skin is near hyperventilating and scared. The boy doesn’t know. And in the face of the unknown it is important that one must start with what you do know. 

“Why don’t we all head to the cave and figure this out.”

“Please...”

Please help me. Please. Mama, Papa, please. 

Mouthed words followed the cut of the line. Mouthed before the deafening snap. 

Dick Grayson died on June 27 but his spirit remained lively. The fortune teller foretold it so. Predicted what must always remain true. Dick Grayson will always find a way to live on. To prevail. 

———

Upon closer inspection, Dick had a blueish tint to him. A waxy parlor. But his cheeks were still full, still rosy and the colors of his overall person were still distinguished. 

A curious case. 

Still. Fucking terrifying. Nothing like Bruce or anyone has ever seen before. 

It was a definite death. No possible way of surviving, especially at the boy’s age. And yet here he stood. Or, rather, floated an inch or two off the ground. 

“W-who is everyone here? I didn’t know Bruce Wayne had so many friends”

“We’re his kids”

“Oh?”

Dick had died before Bruce took anyone in. And this thought saddens Bruce for some reason. All that he thinks is “what if” or “shouldn’t have been like this” and he doesn’t know exactly what that means. 

“The oldest is Jason, then Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra. The youngest is Damian. Barbara is around here often, you would’ve been... you’d like her”

‘You would’ve been around her age’ 

Would’ve.

“Well, I’m uh, well you already know but I go by Dick. I don’t really like Richard all that much”

“You prefer Dick to Richard?”

“Laugh it up, like the joke hasn’t been made a thousand times over already”

“Kids got spunk, I’ll give you that”

Bruce would love to say this specific case was alternate dimension related, clones, metahumans who didn’t know they were, anything that can even be slightly logical.

“Can someone please just explain? Why does everyone think I’m dead? Where am I?”

But the truth of the matter is, Bruce knew in his heart it wasn’t any of that. Daffodils and carnations and painted smiles begin to manifest into a prophecy. 

“Dick, what’s the last thing you remember? Before appearing here?”

Pale yellow and burgundy twist and turn in a show-stopping number. Lay out a story of what must happen, what will always remain true. 

“My mama and papa, it was practice for our next big show, in Gotham. It-it gets a bit blurry from there. Images just kinda show up but I can’t remember what happened after practice. I remember Madame Esmeralda, the fortune teller, she kept saying something or the other. Something about looking for the flower garden of the bat? That the daffodils in the garden will guide me to the hydrangeas? She’s a very cooky person, even for me, but that’s the only thing that’s vivid after practice”

Hydrangeas. Emotion. Understanding. 

And in times like these Bruce is glad Alfred had a strange affinity for flowers and their meanings.

Well, at least the prophecy is half fulfilled.

———

Dick is confused. Perplexed, if you will. Understanding seemed to dawn on Bruce once he retold his last few memories but Dick is still very much lost.

“The bat’s flower garden?”

Well at the very least, he isn’t the only one that’s not following. 

“The fuck does that mean? Can we somehow contact this Madame Esmeralda?” 

That would actually be very much appreciated, thank you very much. His head and heart are starting to ache and Auntie Esmeralda’s violet tea with mango slices always helped, it eased the soul, she would say.

“Unfortunately, the circus left Gotham for Europe soon after the...funeral. I’ve attempted to contact the ringmaster for years and no such luck. All I know is they haven’t been back to the U.S. since and that they likely don’t stay for long in a singular place.” 

Well, that...hurt.

“But I think, I may have an idea to what happened.”

Oh, sir, please do tell. And while we’re at it, would you mind explaining the whole cave thing? Are you the bat? Where’s your flower garden then, mister?

“I’m actually the Batman”

The Batman. Emphasis on the “the.” You know, because there’s more than one.

“...”

Right. He was speaking out loud. Go figure.

———

“The fortune teller, Madame Esmeralda, she was very adamant about what flowers they lay at the burial. She was also the only one to insist on a burial.”

It kept the family tied down. Kept them in one place. In Gotham.

“They used daffodils for your grave, and carnations, but yours was the only one with daffodils”

“What does that mean?”

“Daffodils mean rebirth. Misfortune.”

It means a little boy tied down with flower stems to the soil. Means he will be granted eternal life and bring that brightness of that yellow blossom to everyone’s life. Except his own.

“What do the carnations mean?”

“The white ones on yours meant innocence and pure love.”

“Oh. I knew those clowns were always big softies”

They ignored the tears sprouting from the fountain of youth. The little boy with eyes the color of soil.

“The thing Madame Esmeralda said? My guess is that you weren’t meant to die. Something went wrong. Besides the foul play, all three of you weren’t destined to die. That’s why they put daffodils, to allow you to be reborn, in a sense.” 

“That’s a silly thing to think. That flowers will do all this, mean all this.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

“I suppose. But then, what did she mean about the hydrangeas?”

Follow the yellow flowers. The ones in the bat’s garden. They’ll lead you to the hydrangeas. They’ll lead you to an understanding, emotions that you’ll be freely able to show. 

They’ll lead you to a new home.

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello, id like to say that yes !! this is rlly weird and probably makes no sense but i rlly enjoyed writing it so maybe ppl will like it, and if anything needs to be cleared up please say so !! and dont be afraid to say some criticism as long as its constructive ty !!


End file.
